I Solemnly Swear
by Messr. Miss Prongs
Summary: On the night Sirius Black was killed, Bellatrix Lestrange frantically returns to a stolen pensive, in an attempt to relive her precious memories with her cousin. SiriusBellatrix.  Much, much more to come!
1. The Caretaker's House

Authors Notes: All characters herein are intellectual property of JK Rowling, and Warner Brothers INC. I do not own any of them whatsoever. This is a fan fiction, inspired by a split-second of the Order of the Phoenix movie, has dates of birth changed to accommodate the flow of the story. Otherwise, I have tried my hardest to make things as accurate as possible. Enjoy. :

**I Solemnly Swear.**

_Chapter One. The Caretaker's House_

The pleasant darkness of the night was devouring the landscape of a foreboding village graveyard near Little Hangleton. A scant few skeletal trees did not move, though a balmy early-summer breeze blew gently through the tops and twigs. Everything was calm and quiet. The graveyard could have been mistaken for being ancient, though the truth was that the old caretaker's house was abandoned and the grounds of the graveyard were left to grow and erode unchecked. The gravestones of varying age stood, though some more so leaned, in the long, swaying grass, cracked and some missing large chunks, some profanely vandalized by village teenagers and children, and newer ones which stood the most resilient.

One grave, in particular, was marked by a terrible monolith: one of death itself, winged and dark, with the name "Tom Riddle" emblazed upon the stone and perfect base. This grave alone stood unscathed by time, the teens of the town and the lack thereof care. When the people of the town passed, they shuddered, wondering why in heaven's name someone would want that terrible _thing_ to be anywhere near themselves, their friends, or relatives. Not far away from the monolithic monument to one Tom Riddle, stood the old and decrepit caretaker's house, or shack, really, barely withstanding the trials put against the obviously stronger and much more resilient tombstones of the village. Disturbingly long tendrils of grass repeatedly swayed against the sides of the building near where the deep green and veined ivy grew over the door which was slightly ajar, sealing off the opening in a web like tangled mass of fibrous vines and leaves.

Inside the derelict grounds home, the floors were covered in filth and animal droppings, and the place stank of cat urine. There were only four rooms: The bathroom, with a cracked toilet that was eternally out of order and unused, had a nearly-broken mirror with delicate hairline cracks throughout it, giving it the appearance of crazing lines in old and valuable chinaware. The kitchen doubled as a dining room, with an antiquated wood burning stove made of the blackest and dirtiest cast iron anyone had ever seen. The small card table that had once sufficed as a dining table was broken in half, and lay haphazardly discarded against several large dark-loving plants, poking their way through the makeshift floorboards that strangely resembled and had the thickness of old, wet cardboard. A shattered base-metal fold-up chair stood upright, with an eerie look as ivy of a black looking color curled elegantly around the legs and back, stopping at an abruptness where they joined and formed a solidly tangled rope of plant that ended in a vicious looking curve in the dank space above it. The room adjacent to it was a minute bedroom. There was a broken candelabra-esque light set against the wall, with several bulbs missing, and a few more smashed upon the ground under it. Only one of the small flame-shaped lights remained, and even then its filament had long since been burned up. The mattress on the floor on the opposite wall had neither frame nor headboard, and lay matted and diseased looking on the poorly made floor. It had several large rips in it, unnaturally cleanly made, and it was stained by something both black and crimson red. Huge bundles of mattress stuffing lay strewn throughout the entire house, and what used to be a goose down pillow was now just an awkward arrangement of feathers covered in a dingy grey sheet near a small, boarded up window.

The final room in the derelict old home was simply a sitting room, where a nine-inch black-and-white television stood on a moldering wooden box, covered in fuzzy growths of every nature and fungus. The television itself was unrecoverable, because the fungus had become like glue to the bottom of it. The screen looked as if a large baseball had been thrown through it, and shards of the glass stood outside the screen, even across the room. There was a beautiful loveseat on the wall near the television, which was ripped and shredded just as the mattress had been. It's once beautiful crimson color was now fading to a dull red, and gold threads that once ran through it now plagued it by glittering all too brightly in the damp and dark home. Across from the threadbare loveseat were a fireplace and a cracked hearth, which was made of either dusty stones of an unidentifiable nature or ones too insignificant to even think of. It was lumpy and nonfunctioning, as the chimney was blocked by a year's worth of ivy, twigs and leaves from the trees in the graveyard. The entire house was silent and unrelenting, as if any sign of life inside it had been long since forgotten. Nothing moved inside the derelict home, and yet nothing was still. Cracks seemed to grow larger around the base of the fireplace, and the fungus on the wooden box seemed to grow at an unnaturally quick pace. The stuffing of the afflicted couch and diseased mattress seemed to pour out of it, slowly, barely noticeably, and the crazing lined throughout the mirror in the broken-down bathroom grew like ice over a dirty, tiny pond.

Inside the stony panels of the archaic fireplace, a curious phenomenon took place, one that had not occurred since the night the old caretaker of the graveyard had died. A chilling fire grew, but from what tinder none knew, in the centre of the fireplace. The cold flame grew slowly, licking its way across the bottom of the furnace, and then rising on its haunches like some malicious animal, ready to strike. It grew madly and malevolently, throughout the fireplace until at last it was teeming with tendrils of serpentine green flame, pouring and screaming onto the floor and engulfing the hearth in its cold warmth. A stricken, gaunt face slowly materialized in the viridian fire.

Soon, an emaciated female body, a _person_, by some horrible stretch of physics and the laws of mass, spun hazardously out of the serpentine fire and sprawled, staring vacantly upwards, in the centre of the dilapidated and molding floor of the decrepit sitting room.

Bellatrix Lestrange sat up. Her hair was positively a mess of fantastically piled dark and dusty curls that had once contained the beauty and elegance her pureblood family was so well endowed with, and her scrawny figure was heavily cloaked in forest-green velvet dressing robes. She opened her fearful, flashing silver searching eyes and looked wildly around her. The sharpness of her features and bleakness of her faded eyes, from lack of nutrition and sunlight, gave her the appearance of a something like a mad-eyed wolf, starved by the winter. She hadn't noticed before, when everything had happened, but she was shaking, trembling, and badly at that. She brought her slender fingered nimble hands to her pallid face and watched them tremble in both horror and surprise. The shocking events that had occurred that inevitable night were ones that would haunt her darkest moments and deepest nightmares forever, _forever._ She barely noticed the rivers of tears streaming down her face until she laughed, bitterly and madly, and tasted an awful combination of salt, sweat, and blood. She sobbed, guilt-stricken and hopelessly, as every minute detail of the night came flooding into her mind, rendering her nearly helpless. She made a strong and strangled attempt to swallow everything, but only succeeded in making herself choke and sob once again. A strangled, horrified noise escaped her scarlet, elegantly-lipped mouth, one that echoed tragedy and a terrible loss.

Bellatrix Lestrange's self-consolation that this was exactly what she promised was in vain. Echoes kept running through her mind, _his voice, _racing and as she tried to catch onto them to hear, they simply slipped away. Memories came flooding into the forefront of her brain in a heartbreaking jumble she could not sort through. Bellatrix screamed tragically in frustration and stood, her once becoming robes flapping at her feet. She thrashed about the room, tearing at her hair and her pale and emaciated flesh.

"NO!" she screamed, and fell to her smooth and bony knees. "No! I promised you, I know I did, but I never… He never…" She cried, talking to herself from the insanity of it all.

She tried hard to find something, deep inside her racing mind by sifting through her heartbeat. Bellatrix rose, stumbling, and smashed her way to the wall where the ancient fungus-covered box stood with the old, broken, black-and-white television sat. She whipped out her elegant black wand and flicked the television, effortlessly, into the wall, after it made an odd squelching noise from where the fungus had been ripped from the bottom. It made a terrible smashing noise. Sparks flew and shards of glass seared into her skin and hair when she screamed something that sounded like a sob and _Reducto._ The fungus-covered wooden box seemed to swell and then exploded, bits and slivers of the ancient wood flying everywhere in a terrific burst. Setting lower than the cardboard like floorboards, in a magically-cut out hollow in the ground was a large, deep basin, filled with what looked like liquid silver. Bellatrix quivered a bit as she slunk low to her knees and on her hands and leaned close to the basin. She smiled her first sincere smile since that night, revealing a perfect row of sharp, white teeth, and took her wand and pressed it deep into her temple. She felt stirring, deep in her mind. Her wand was like a new, catching onto a singular something, echoing through her as she isolated it with difficulty. She closed her eyes, and pulled her wand away from her temple and near the basin. A cold, silvery substance, neither gas nor liquid was almost resonating, was trailing from the tip of her beautiful wand. It wove around itself as Bellatrix brought it near the liquid silver like stuff that filled the basin, and then stirred itself into the mixture. Bellatrix felt her focus return slightly and her mind clear a fragment of a tiny bit.

Hours passed, and the once beautiful Bellatrix Lestrange was still depositing her memories into the Pensive, hidden beneath a box in the deceased caretaker's home in the graveyard in which her master's muggle father was buried.

The sun rose gently after several, treacherous hours, and unfolded like a brilliant rose against the pale pink morning sky. At this, Bellatrix paused the process of placing her most dear and precious memories in the Pensive, and rose to her feet, stumbling from a lack of movement. She went towards the door to the outside, and reduced and transfigured the ivy covering the space between the door and the wall into nothing more than the silvery silken threads of a spider and pushed it open. The beautiful clean scented air hit her full force, forcing her senses to wake, after what seemed an eternity of enslavement in Azkaban and servitude to her master. Sweet, golden rays of sunlight hit her skin, warming it and calming her nerves. The sky struck her dead silent, and she gazed longingly at the sun's beaming colors cast on the delicate clouds of the sky around her. She looked across the overgrown graveyard grounds. The lengthy grass no longer looked as malevolent and gnarled as it did in the night. The gravestones seemed welcoming and unthreatening. Even the dark monolith of death by night looked more like a pleasant angel in the golden and rose colored light. A movement in the grass caused Bellatrix to focus. She paused, stricken, at a faraway dog, running in the long grass of the grounds in enormous bounds. It was large and nearly bearlike, shaggy and raven-black, with its tongue handing out of the side of its mouth. Its mate, a slender, elegant looking dog ran near it, with erect ears covered in a mottled deep grey, and it's slender, but beautiful black and grey body covered in thick, wavy, airy fur that made it look like an odd sort of crazed wolf. Both dogs were romping happily, playfully across the grounds, stopping only to fall into the grass and let loose a happy bark, and nuzzle each other gently. Bellatrix let a shallow breath escape her, and smiled painfully as her bitter tears came once again. She returned, regretting at once what she had seen, to the Pensive, where she dutifully continued depositing her memories of the one dodgy dog, Sirius Black.


	2. Memory One: Playmates

_Chapter two. **Memory one.** Playmates. _

Cygnus and Druella Black, the aristocratic and elegantly dressed purebloods from a purely wizarding village near the dark part of London, strutted purposefully throughout the dingy muggle streets of the infamous Muggle part of the city, sneering in disgust at the _normal_ passerby who nearly always stopped and stared. The steps they took were long and light, the only noise coming from the stunningly beautiful Druella's silver shoes, made of what looked to be delicate, high heeled glass. The two adults did not speak nor look at each other at any one moment, but merely linked arms politely as they walked gracefully, almost floating, throughout the cracked streets. Trailing on Druella's gorgeously pale, long-fingered free hand were three tiny girls, the youngest of which was named Bellatrix. The girl, Bella, as she was so lovingly called by her mother and sisters, had what was the beginning of waist-length, perfectly proportioned black curls, thick and fantastically bouncy, across her back and tied out of her face in a clip-on lacey green bow on the side of her lusciously tressed head. The girl's long, serpentine green clothing was exquisite, obviously professionally made by the old Madame Mawkins, and cut her seven year old figure in a way that made her look much older than her small, youthful face would have anyone possibly imagine. The delicate silver embroidery of her street-length cloak was almost alive and moving, spinning and flashing into designs that could only be sewn by pure and powerful magic. The uniform Slytherin green color of her dress matched that of her mothers and eldest sister Andromeda's. The robes they wore were quite lengthy and swamped them in a heavy looking wizarding fabric, each endowed with a stunning pattern of green lace gracing their lovely fingers and just mid shin for the girls, and floor-length for Druella. The dresses themselves were empire-waisted, elegantly V-necked, with full-length sleeves that alternated between a flare and straight form against the pale, thin arms of Bellatrix, Andromeda, and Druella.

Bellatrix grasped her small hands onto the larger hands of her middle sister, Narcissa, which Bella endearingly pronounced "A-Cissa" and sometimes when she was feeling particularly good, just "Cissy." Narcissa's robes were the female equivalent of her Father Cygnus's. They were both elegant silver, made of an eerily light fabric fit for the most pompous of wizarding royalty. Narcissa's waterfall cascade of fine hair was of the lightest blonde, stick straight and pure. Her lashes, as well, were light golden and increasingly long, and her eyes the palest, silvery blue that nearly matched the color of her robes. Andromeda, whom looked so much like Bellatrix her mother sometimes got the two confused, grasped Narcissa's hand on her other side. The only difference between Bellatrix and Andromeda, besides their obvious age difference, (but even that was slightly less obvious because of the womanly shape the dress gave Bellatrix) was in the pigment of their hair, in which Andromeda had a soft brown tint to it rather than a raven black color.

The increasingly strange looking family strode down the long, dirty blocks of London at an alarmingly brisk speed for having such young, delicate children, until they slowed to a slight gaiting walk around a large flat complex known as Grimmauld Place. The family stopped suddenly, and searched around the near vicinity for any muggle, still staring and not minding their own. Cygnus sneered at a small muggle girl with mousey hair and what seemed to be her much older brother, sitting in a wrought-iron bench near their destination. They had no obvious intention of moving. Narcissa pulled gently on Cygnus's silver robes.

"Daddy?" She smiled sweetly. Her father stooped low to scoop the young girl into his arms and kissed the top of her blonde hair, tousling it a bit with his large, rough hands.

"Yes, love?" He said in a deep, gruff voice, with a slight tenderness about it, an affinity for his favorite daughter. The beautiful blonde haired Narcissa Black whispered into his large ear and when Cygnus smiled crookedly, she giggled happily, covering her mouth to disguise her mirth.

"You're right, Cissa, very observational." Cygnus put Narcissa down slowly and she hopped out of his arms, eager to join the company and the tiny hands of her two beloved sisters. Cygnus took Druella's hand and leaned close to her, whispering into her thrice pierced ear. Druella's expression did not change, and she merely nodded slightly and curtly at the information being passed to her from her husband. She pursed her curvaceous crimson lips.

Druella pulled Bellatrix into her slender arms and grabbed Andromeda's tiny hands roughly, as the girls' father picked Narcissa up in one grand sweeping motion, and let her ride on his shoulders. Druella dragged her daughter Andromeda behind her and Cygnus, to a black, heavy iron gate to a Muggle garden across from Grimmauld Place. Cygnus slyly pulled out his wand, and gave a silent _Alohomora_, and let Narcissa push the top of the gate open. Cygnus and Narcissa let the rest of their family inside the gate, and closed said gate at once. The gate itself was as black as Bellatrix's hair, but chipped in several places, and rusted in more. Cygnus took Narcissa off his shoulders in a strong display of muscle power and let her down on the soft grass near the sandy brown cobblestones he himself was standing on. Cygnus cracked his neck. Narcissa wandered for a moment to the beautiful garden surrounding them. She gazed upon the hundreds of roses, of every shape and color imaginable until she settled on a blood red one, with sharp black thorns that looked as foreboding as the serrated teeth of a wild wolf. She slowly reached her small, paper white hands out to it and grasped the flower right under the bloom, but retracted quickly as scarlet blood began to well up in several places on her palm and tiny, slender fingers. Narcissa's pale pink lips started to quiver. Bellatrix heard a barely audible sob come from her dear sister, and ran to her, cocking her head slightly and whispering under her breath.

"Cissy? Are you okay?" Bellatrix asked her, taking her injured hand in hers. Narcissa whimpered and wiped her eyes with her uninjured hand. Bellatrix turned Narcissa's hand over in her own, her silver gazing down at the beads of blood that were forming and steadily growing larger. Bellatrix let out a shallow breath, and touched the tips of her tiny fingers to each growing abrasion on Narcissa's small hands. At once they seemed to seal, or at least, to stop bleeding. Narcissa sniffed again, wiping her eyes as Bellatrix smiled at her and hugged her sister tightly.

"You'll be okay, Cissy, I promise." Narcissa nodded and hugged her sister back. She broke the embrace and smiled at Bellatrix. She kissed her cheek and ran back to her loving father, leaving Bellatrix alone by the roses and their ever-vicious thorns. Bellatrix smiled and looked down at the flowers that seemed to wilt as she stared them down. She plucked the red one her sister wanted, but miraculously without being hurt in the slightest. She gazed it, wondering what it would look like if it were another color. _Maybe, _she thought, _Mum can make this shiny so I can give it to Sirius for his birthday. _Bellatrix looked over to her family; where she caught just a glimpse of Cygnus disappear with a loud crack, Narcissa in tow. The moment filled her with wonder, and she thought about how one day she, too, would be able to do that. Bellatrix ran over to her mother, almost kicking off her tiny silver ballet shoes and she ran.

"Mum?" Bellatrix asked, showing Druella the crimson rose. "Can you make this shiny so I can give it to Sirius?" Druella looked down at her daughter. Andromeda was standing near her, watching them with a dazed sort of look on her face. Druella's face softened at this request from her darling little Bella.

"Of course, darling. I most certainly can." Druella pulled her hawthorn wand from her sleeve and tapped the rose gently, mumbling something inaudible that Bella was sure was some great incantation. The rose transformed into what looked to be a fragile glass, but glass that was clouded with not red petals, but pure silver. Bellatrix smiled widely, her small, seven-year-old eyes glittering. She eagerly took the glass silver rose from her mother, who smiled, and took both Andromeda and Bellatrix by the hand. A split second later and totally without warning, she felt herself disappear into a whirlwind of discomfort. She was being pushed and prodded in the most horrific of ways, and she felt as if she was being pulled apart. Bellatrix wanted to scream, to tell her mother to stop, but just as quickly as it had begun the horrible sensation ceased and her feet felt solid ground once again.

The three were at once ambushed by a flurry of hugs and pinches. Bellatrix stood, obviously confused by the massive outbreak of family members in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. She couldn't see anything in the room, let alone who was hugging her, asking how she was, weather they were males or females, and who was now taking her hand and dragging her away. Through the furious crowd of various Blacks, Bellatrix suddenly found herself in a nearly deserted sitting room. The wonder of the ancient home made her smile. The walls were covered in a beautiful but misleading wallpaper of the most fantastic viridian green, with silver painted designs elegantly wrapped around each and every corner and minute inch of the wall and ceilings. Enormous moving portraits of famous Blacks from centuries ago hung above her and around the walls, each turning their huffy nose up or smiling at her. Huge crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, each endowed with magical silver candles lighting the room and casting dancing shadows on the walls with silver light reflecting off of the paint. The huge and overstuffed plush furniture that was about the room was made of high-comfort black velvet that left a comforting thought of home in her mind. The backs of the seats were high, as were the cushions, and Bellatrix for a moment doubted weather she could pull herself upon the lovely looking furniture. A silver-painted marble tea table sat directly across the couch, with what looked like serpents as the legs of the exquisite marble table. There was a very thin sheet like cover on the table, with open bottles of firewhiskey and half finished butterbeers littering it and the surrounding stands. There was no television, but a stack of _The Daily Prophet _near the adjacent wall underneath a huge window that was left wide open, with a small dish full of tiny bronze Knuts for the delivery owl to take if no one was around to pay it. There was a silver cage, handing from what looked like an iron black coat rack near the window, with the wire door open and a few black feathers sticking oddly out from the holes in the bottom of the cage tray.

Bellatrix skipped slowly over to the brilliantly whitewashed windowsill, gazing dreamily out into the beautifully and carefully cultivated Black gardens. She inhaled deeply the sweet scent of crimson roses, pale pink dog flowers, and lavender, honey smelling sweet pea. She smiled widely, and remembered the rose she had so delicately plucked from a muggle garden for her cousin. She moved in gentle strides, her hand outstretched touching the green and silver walls, to the lengthy hallway near a huge set of spiraling mahogany stairs. Bella turned down the dark passage, illuminated by only a small, green, stained glass chandelier in the center. Bellatrix gazed at the walls, covered in intricate, flowering serpents sliding and curling about them. She continued down the hall, passing carefully locked heavy wooded doors, some of which had screaming beyond. Dazed, Bellatrix wandered down to the farthest wall where she found a long, wide tapestry that extended vertically so incredibly high she did not know where it ended. At the topmost portion of the tapestry where her small eyes could focus, the words _Tourjous Pur_ was embroidered in tiny, spiderlike silver threads.Bellatrix gazed for a moment, wondering for a moment what on earth that could mean. She could read, but barely, and she searched for what seemed ages to find what was woven onto the tapestry. Names and dates littered the ancient wall covering, with sets of names and braches being separated each by single and double lines of silver thread. Bellatrix stared, trying to focus on the individual strands and words, but couldn't seem to comprehend what they neither said nor meant.

"Always Pure."

Bellatrix heard soft, shuffling footsteps behind her and spun around quickly. At once, the shining and youthful face of her cousin, Sirius Black, swam into her bright, dreamy-eyed view. He was elegantly dressed in what looked like a rather expensive set of raven black dress robes, with classy pinstripes of silver thread, just like the silver thread magically woven onto the Tapestry, winding its way throughout the wizarding garment. He looked rather peaky and thin, which Bellatrix wondered for only a moment about, as Sirius' household had a rather nasty house elf named Kreacher that did in fact cook relentlessly. The boy Black's hair was as dark as his robes, but more lustrous and much, much more appealing, however long for a young boy's. Sirius was well groomed, despite how his hair fell just below seven-year old eyes, of which were so miraculously blue they shone silver like the threads throughout his robes, just as Belaltrix's did. Bellatrix smiled as Sirius shuffled towards her, and pulling her into his tiny arms, happy to see his first playmate, Bellatrix Black.

Sirius held her tightly. Bellatrix was less than a head taller than him, and only a few weeks older.

"Bella? Did you come for my birthday?" Sirius asked her, his face buried in her hair. Bellatrix did not answer, but after a moment nodded into his sweet smelling, dark hair.

"Yeah. I brought you something." The two seven year old playmates broke the tender embrace, though Sirius did so quite reluctantly. Bellatrix flashed an evanescent smile at him through eager lips. She bit them in concentration, fumbling through her long, viridian robes, finally feeling her pale, tiny hand wrap around the silver rose she had brought her favorite cousin. She smiled.

"Wanna guess what it is, Mister Sirius?" Sirius frowned for a moment, revealing childish dimples around his mouth. Bellatrix kissed him on the cheek with a quick, sudden motion that left her cousin blushing.

"Well I guess you don't have to, but it would be better if you did!" Her voice was teasing. She started swaying back and forth, on a pivot at the base of her heels. She smiled widely again.

"Er, kay, Bella." Sirius said, stretching. "Is it... a new toy broom?"

"Nooo, good guess though, I think mum got you one of those."

Sirius smiled again. "Good. Mine was getting pretty old."

Bellatrix's blue hued eyes softened as she pulled the rose out from under her robes. It shone beautifully in the magic candlelight, making the silver look as if it were moving tenaciously throughout the glass. Sirius's eyes were transfixed and wide.

"Bella... It's beautiful..." He took it from her gently, his eyes caught up in its pearly glow. Sirius and Bellatrix's eyes met. She smiled, and Sirius came forward...

_The memory in the Pensive faded slowly, swimming in front of Bellatrix Lestrange's scared, silver and wild eyes. Bellatrix screamed in frustration. Her concentration had broken. She made an attempt once again, to see what happened next._

The very young Bellatrix and Sirius Black came from the hallways, walking slowly, talking quietly to themselves, ever laughing and ever smiling their small, helpless grins that were brought on by such good friends. The exact words of their speech was lost by the roar created from the many Black relatives yelling, talking and drunk giggling. The two children were swept up by Druslla and Cygnus Black, Bellatrix's parents.

"Li'll Boy, Sirius Black! I haven't seen you since Bella's fifth birthday!" A very firewhiskey-influenced Cygnus said in a loud, booming voice. Sirius shifted uncomfortably in his Uncle's strong grip. Cygnus stank heavily of alcohol. Druella had a stain on the front of her matched green dress robes she had taken such care to prepare for this event. Bellatrix looked at Sirius, pleadingly and silently asking him to please do something to get them out of the situation.

As if on cue, a very minute little boy named Regulus, whom was the spitting image of Sirius, came teetering into the room.

"Sir-Us! Presents!" He called happily, led by the hand of a distant relative Bellatrix did not know. Cygnus and Drusella put the two children down. Sirius, however, did not seem to care about his presents. He stood close to Bellatrix and whispered into her ear.

"Bella? No matter what I get, nothing can be as good as that flower, kay?" Sirius grasped her hand and squeezed it lightly. Bellatrix giggled.

"Kay, Siri." She kissed him on the cheek once again.


	3. A Dinner Party at Grimmauld Place

_Chapter Three._ _**Memory Two **__A Dinner Party at Grimmauld Place._

"…Bellatrix?" Druella Black's haughty, soft voice came swimming abruptly into the lazy, early morning mind of her eight-year-old daughter with tired, bloodshot eyes and rumpled, vaguely shimmering pale green silk sheets. The girl, obviously Bellatrix, opened her dark lashed and bright silvery eyes exhaustedly in waking irritation. She could barely see the early rays of the sun glimmering through the small window at the head of her guest bed. Rays which gently sparkled against her moon-glowing eyes…

No_, thought Bellatrix. _Later, much later_. Images flashed quickly through her mind. Bits and pieces of the events of that day at Christmas swam before her, though she did not hold them for long. They were bright for a moment, but not what she was looking for. She kept going, searching for the precise time…_

At Christmastime, the usual Christmas concoction of colors, shining and fiery red and piney, cool green, were never seen in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. It was taboo to the proud and pure Slytherin family to even have the two colors seen near each other at _any_ given moment, let alone at _Christmas. _Nevertheless, the ancient and noble home was decorated exquisitely with sparkling Silver and Green, the colors of Dearest Salazar Slytherin, in a fashion that was faux holiday but Christmassy enough. The railing of the ebony dark-wooded stairs had a magical garland hanging off of it, wound around the bars of the railing with snakelike tendrils of tinsel and orbs of gleaming moonstones dotted with tiny gems, and even haphazardly half-put-up in several places, as if the project had suddenly and inexplicably been abandoned. The tiny moonstones and diamonds seemed to snow from the garland, glittering pleasantly and collecting in little fluffy piles at the base of the stairs and wherever the garland lay.

The young and delicate Bellatrix and heartier Andromeda Black were playing happily, babbling quietly at each other, discussing what nine year old girls discuss, next to the silver-strung evergreen tree that rose higher than the ceiling of the heavily decorated and overly furnished sitting room. The girls were tossing a silver-winged magical bulb back and forth with the greatest of ease, as a Seeker does when catching or tossing a Snitch. The pale, skinned, curly-haired girl caught the small silver bulb and tossed it gracefully back to her less graceful elder sister. Andromeda, who was the clumsiest of the three Black daughters, at once dropped it and watched in horror as the silver bulb let out a vicious and dying screaming noise before smashing upon the floor in one swift and abrupt movement. Andromeda smiled nervously as Bellatrix's silvery eyes caught her own dark ones, narrowing in a bit of flashy sibling annoyance. A distant cousin or uncle, probably Arcturus, came ushering in a short, stocky looking wand into the room at once and flicked it at the remnants of the beautiful broken bulb. It struggled for a split second, but the glittering bits and bulb's shards lifted and shone silver in the light and reformed into the beautiful, winged bulb it had been. Bellatrix let out a happy giggle, obviously neglecting the fact that she should probably thank her cousin-or-uncle Arcturus for fixing her elegant toy. Bellatrix threw the ball a bit harder at Andromeda, who again dropped it, but the ball flittered away from the floor and set itself on one of the topmost branches of the Christmas tree, obviously in an attempt to get out of reach of the two careless witches. Bellatrix's full, girlish lips curved into a sly smile.

Bellatrix stood on limber legs and made quite a scene stretching her thin limbs in all outlandish directions. "Andra', I'm gonna go look for Sirius. Kay?" she said, in the midst of a wide and tiresome yawn. Andromeda Black nodded slowly at the ground, letting her wavy, mousey hair fall into her devastatingly bright, childish eyes. Elegantly black-haired Bella's silver eves darted and glanced at the brilliantly enchanted Christmas tree before heading off. It was tall and of the deepest emerald green, with every branch dripping in magical tinsel, shining and shimmering silver and glittering spectacularly in the low candlelight of the house. The silver and shining emerald green bulbs were spinning slowly counterclockwise through the branches, changing design ever so often, and some even changing color from green to silver and vice versa. The bulbs were delicately made, each of magical blown glass with tiny, shimmering gemstones changing color simultaneously with the bulbs as they spun lazily around and through the tree. The star atop the tree was made of silver, and it quickly changed into the shape and a scale size of stars in constellations for which the family was named. It hung, for a moment, with the word "ORION" underneath it in a silvery, spider web like manner, and it morphed slowly into curvy, spindly letters spelling "SIRIUS" and then bulkier, heavy ones that announced "CYGNUS". Bellatrix observed the gradual, shimmering change in star closely with great intent, and turned swiftly around, skipping happily to the moonstone snowing staircase and jumping wholeheartedly up to the first chestnut hardwood step.

She felt the feathery, plush green velvet underneath her tiny fanned out toes and continued onward, rushing quickly up the stairs with each kick of her skinny, strong legs. At the top of the long, spiraling staircase, she saw Sirius and Regulus Black, her dear cousins darting down the long hallway on a shining and brand new toy broomstick, one better and obviously faster than the one Bellatrix's mother Druella had so generously bought Sirius for his birthday two years before. Bellatrix frowned for a moment when she saw that Regulus was riding Sirius's; the one Druella had shelled out forty Galleons for. This aside, however, Bellatrix was quite visibly ecstatic to find her favorite cousin Sirius once again, as their Christmas-Eve playtime the magnificent day before had been rudely interrupted by expectation-raising talk of presents and a delicious Christmas Feast the next day.

The young Sirius Black's gleaming and pristine mahogany handled toy broomstick swept a generous four feet off the lush, emerald shag carpeted floor, as it was lovingly and evidently charmed to not allow any collisions (as if it had _not _been, Regulus and Sirius would both be sporting a few relative broken limbs and particularly nasty abrasions, not to mention extensive damage to the house and any disarray said damages would cause.) Regulus Black's dull metallic eyes flashed in Bellatrix's direction, as she caught his vague, dreamy call to Sirius to turn around. The elder brother's broom skidded graciously and gently to a definitive halt at the end of the expansive hallway, at the end of which held the Family tapestry. Sirius leapt off the broom and fell gracefully with the skill and training of a Quidditch star and landed with a muffled, strange "oomph" sound. He turned slowly, his long, black hair falling into his youthfully round face beautifully with the already-apparent boyish Black features that would one day make him desirable to everyone who laid eyes upon him. He stared down the hallway, his stirring silver eyes blank, until finally gazing at Bellatrix Black who was both breathtakingly tressed and dressed.

"Sirius?" she called distantly down the hallway warmly, her happy inflection rising. Sirius smiled crookedly, white fanglike teeth flashing in her direction with joy.

"Bella!" Sirius tossed his new toy to the side, (where it ricocheted off a dark, unrelenting door and nearly smashed into the ground.) Sirius, however, was oblivious to this, as his intent and focus was apparently on getting to his cousin. She smiled at him, receiving his embrace lovingly and with a joyous, girlish giggle. The pair's embrace was lengthy and too-soon broken, but Sirius kept his small, long fingered hands on Bellatrix's waist, as Bellatrix kept hers around his strong neck. The two smiled and Bellatrix coughed a little, at which Sirius removed his hands and placed them slightly awkwardly at his sides.

"What took you s'long to see me, Bella?" Sirius asked her quizzically, before hugging her again. Their embrace was sweet and long with the two children feeling safe and warm.

"I was with 'Dromeda. We played catch with the silver bulbs on the tree," She pointed down the stairs with her young, delicate fingers after breaking the embrace, which Sirius's eyes followed hastily. The two continued to banter about Christmas and their potential presents, about Uncle Arcturus, and their odd aunts and cousins.

Regulus listened to his brother and cousin silently. Eventually, he slunk darkly down the wall and started to smash his toy broom against the walls in a totally nonviolent way (if that was possible) and gently prodded Bellatrix in the leg, causing her to jump.

"I'nint time to go eat, Berratwix?" He said, slurring Bella's name and causing her to wince a bit at his awful, younger speech. Regulus looked up at her with dull eyes.

"Yeah, probably Regulus." She gazed down at Regulus, and then turned to Sirius, whisking her skirt in his direction and smiling. She took him by the tiny, pale wrist and led him down the stairs, with Regulus Black, an odd-looking image of his brother, following close behind.

In the elaborate and large dining hall in Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, the décor associated with the heavily adorned rooms of the house was in full, if not more spirit than the rest. Each carefully carved, ebony seat was high-backed like a throne to each of the Blacks and trimmed in emerald cushions and silvery, spider-spun lace of the most expensive kind. The chairs had silver tinsel embedded in the wood, which moved throughout the wood by means of a charm Bellatrix had never seen before. The table, carved of the same material the chairs were, was decked in mistletoe and a huge tapestry-like tablecloth that sparkled and depicting a large silver "S" and emerald green serpents winding their way around it. Bellatrix was seated on the one of the long sides of the table, near her father Cygnus who sat at the head of the table. Cygnus was in deep conversation with Walburga, Sirius and Regulus's mother, and he kept nodding with intent and kept his chin firmly in the grip of his forefinger and thumb, stroking the gently goatee he had sported since a few weeks before. Bellatrix gently kicked her Mary-Jane clad feet in gentle arcs, sometimes curving them into a delicate "S" shape, taking great care not to scuff the shoes or hit anyone that sat near. The other guests, children of the Blacks and numerous uncles, aunts, and distant relations Bellatrix had never met, sat around, discussing everything from the tinsel on the tree to the degradation of the Ministry of Magic and the employment of something called "Mudbloods".

Bellatrix's searching silver eyes wandered wildly around the table and the crowd gathering, attempting to find her cousin Sirius and potentially invite him to sit in the empty chair next to her. Her eyes fell first on Arcturus, who was staring blankly at her Mother's bottom, unbeknownst to her, for to Bellatrix it simply looked as if he was trying to remember something important. Arcturus noticed her gaze and abruptly turned away, turning faintly pink, but why Bellatrix did not know.

Something brushed her shoulder and caused Bellatrix a moment of intricate fear. She turned in her seat and found her face a mere inch away from that of Sirius's, his handsome features smiling at her, his fantastic smile gaping beautifully at her. Bellatrix's eyes widened.

"Siri, I was looking for you. Wanna sit by me?" She asked innocently, placing her tiny hand on the arms of the seat nearest hers. Sirius shook his head and closed his long-lashed eyes gently.

"No," he said slowly. Bellatrix's face fell at once into despair. She lowered her head, allowing her soft, dark curls to fall into her face.

"Oh…" the girl trailed off, her hopes of dinner talk with her favorite cousin fading fast. Sirius interrupted her dwelling dark thoughts quickly.

"I was wondering if you want to come sit under the tree with me instead, Bella?" He asked her quietly, leaning in to whisper in her ear. Bellatrix shivered a tiny bit. His breath was cool and enchanting.

"But won't they know we're gone?"

"Sure, eventually, but for now we can play for awhile. They're just gonna talk like this for ages, Bella, and I'm bored," Sirius shot her a desperate and pleading look. He puckered his perfect lips into a frown and batted his lashed for a bit until Bellatrix hopped out of her seat and stood next to him, taking him by the hand.

"Alright, Siri. But if we get in trouble I'm telling mum it was your idea," she whispered. Sirius's smile widened and he led her off quickly, locking his fingers with hers on the way. Uncle Arcturus apparently took notice of the pair leaving.

"Oy, young man! Where d'you think you're goin' with that lovely gal?" His speech was slightly drunken. He bellowed a laugh afterward, that caused a heavily embarrassed Walburga to stare, though Sirius brushed the comments off at once, his calm face intent on leaving the room. Bellatrix twirled a long curl of hers around her tiny finger, sucking in on her lip a bit until they were out of the room and the burning scent of Firewhiskey had faded with Uncle Arcturus's laughter.

Once in the clear, Sirius turned to Bellatrix, still holding her hand.

"I'm glad we're out of there, Bella. Arcturus was acting off, yeah?" He asked quickly. Bellatrix nodded gently, closing her eyes. Sirius turned and yanked her by the hand and smiled at her. "C'mon, Bella, we're almost at the tree..."

_Bellatrix Lestrange's memory started to swim before her. She caught a single momentary glimpse of her young self leaning forward to a very handsome and childish Sirius, kissing him gently on the cheek as he led her to the decorated tree at Grimmauld Place. She felt a tear run down her gaunt cheeks. Had they once been that innocent, that beautiful? Had she once loved him in a way that was not as mortifying as her family found it to be, long after they had found out? She tossed a handful of rocky, filth and dust from the more-filthy ground into the Pensive, and growled sadly at her memories, at her stagnant feelings and her stoic feelings for him as well. She stood gently and felt her knees almost give way beneath her frail body, wasted from fourteen years in Azkaban, and maybe more if she wasn't as lucky as she had been in the past. She leaned into the silver-striped couch and closed her eyes, hoping to dream of Sirius Orion Black._


	4. A Summer of Letters and Correspondances

I, as the author, would like to inform everyone that at this point in time, Bellatrix and Sirius have adopted their own ideas of themselves as they are soon heading to school. I invite all my readers to let me know if they enjoy the banter the two partake in on a weekly basis when not together. Hah. I really enjoyed writing this chapter. Just so you know.

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Chapter four. _A Few Years Later. _**A Summer of Letters and Correspondences.**

* * *

In shaky, large and blocked-out print: 

**May Twenty-Eighth**

**My dearest cousin Bellatrix,**

**I can hardly believe we're going to Hogwarts this year. Can you believe it, Bella? Is it real? Tell me it's real. Is it some horrible joke they've been playing on us since our birth? I'm a nervous wreck, y'know. 'Course, you'd know that if you'd had bothered to show up at my birthday party this year. But no, despite letters and letter of invitations and owls arriving every day with more you chose to ignore them. And I didn't even get a letter explaining why? There is only one explanation that seems even possibly feasible. You are off on Holiday in Greece without me. I want you to know that you are an awful cousin, going away like that. Don't you know how desperately I want to go to Greece? Didn't we promise a while back that we'd only ever go to Greece together? Because y'know, then we could go to the Coliseum. But I suppose that's in Rome, yeah? So scratch that last. Hah.**

**Anyways, I just wanted to tell you that if I don't get a letter in return to this I am most certainly not speaking to you on the Hogwarts Express and you can expect no Christmas Gift from me either. So there.**

**Your dearest and most favorite cousin ever,**

**----Sirius Orion Black**

* * *

In elegant, loopy script: 

_June Fourth_

_Unfortunately lovely cousin of mine, one Sirius Orion Black:_

_I find it fitting to inform you, oh impatient one, that your letters have not gone unread as you apparently assume. You jump to conclusions much too quickly, Sirius, and this I regret to inform you will be the bane of our cousinship. You see, it is much unfair for you to abruptly acknowledge things that are not true, especially in the case of Greece and I—as I would never even imagine adventuring to such a place without you. _

_And I most certainly hope within the depths of my heart that you truly do not believe that Hogwarts is not real and that it is some magnificently performed prank. If you do, Sirius, you are much dafter than I ever could have hoped to believe and thus must never speak to you again. Now, that being said I am going to pretend you were joking for my amusement, which I might add, I am very amused at. _

_I am much looking forward to the Christmas Gift I shall now receive. In fact, you can purchase it for me in two weeks time. Have Aunt Walburga Floo you over to my little haven of a home. Mother is taking us shopping for school. And no, you do not have a choice in this matter._

_Hoping to see you soon,_

_Your Lovely Cousin,_

_Bellatrix_

* * *

In rushed, blocked out lettering: 

**June Ninth**

**Bella Bella Bella Bella Bella:**

**What if I don't want to go, eh? What if I refuse? What if I suddenly decide that I like spending time with Regulus (the prat.) more than I like spending time with you? Eh eh? What would you do?**

**And. I apologize a lot for assuming such awful things of you. How dare I ever think you would adventure to Greece without me! I am an awful cousin, Bellatrix. I don't know how you can put up with it. D'you know my mum gave me a dirty look when I asked if she'd Floo me to your place? I think she wanted to take me shopping for my first year at Hogwarts. After all, I'd want to take myself shopping. 'Course, she probably just wants to buy me something ridiculous and expensive emblazed with Slytherin's emblem, which I think is stupid because definitely haven't even been sorted yet. What if by some awful twist of luck I get Hufflepuff? Merlin. I think I'd jump off the clock tower. So, Bella, if I get Hufflepuff you should probably kill me at once. Hah.**

**I feel like such a disappointment right now, Bella. Though I have no idea what I'm expected to buy you for Christmas. So you'll have to let me know when you see it, yeah?**

**Oh. And so you know. Decidedly, I am going to make up words. Like Decidedly. And assumptuous. Just so you know.**

**Your most assumptuous cousin,**

**Sirius**

* * *

In slow, calligraphic hand: 

_June Thirteenth_

_Sirius Orion Black,_

_You shall _not _refuse to come with me and my mother, because you have none such choice as of now. Mother went to Number Twelve today for the sole purpose of speaking to Aunt Walburga, who apparently immediately "grant[ed permission for [you to go". That was taken as a quote from your mother; you can ask her yourself, cousin, though I believe mother said she may come as well if she so desires. And if you preferred the company of Regulus to me, then I am most assured that you would spend endless hours writing him letters instead of me. Yes, I am ignoring the blatant fact that he does live within five feet of you and has lived in said close range for the majority if not the entirety of his life. I care not, Sirius. In any case, if you did prefer him then I would in fact talk father into kidnapping you, which he would certainly do for me. Assuming I could catch him when he wasn't drowning in Firewhiskey. Also, I dutifully accept your apology for being a horrible cousin. I am just increasingly glad that you have noticed said fact._

_Sirius, I am one hundred percent positive you will not be placed into the disgraceful house of Hufflepuff. You are not book-smart enough to be in Ravenclaw, nor are you to be placed in Gryffindor as our entire family (give or take a few blood traitors, the filthy ones) have been placed in the house of Salazar Slytherin. Because you are a direct descendant of the ancient and most noble house of Black, you shall be sorted accordingly, Sirius. That being said, I absolutely forbid you, in the rare occasion that the sorting hat sorts you incorrectly, to jump off the clock tower as that would have dire consequences to my own well-being. And you are no disappointment in any way, shape or form, Sirius. Therefore, stop complaining at once or I shant buy you a Christmas present either. As for mine, you shall find a spectacular array of items at Flourish and Blotts, or perhaps something silken and lovely from Madame Malkins. Unless, dear Sirius, you are thinking of something more high-end, in which case you can always appeal to my feminine side and purchase something spectacular in the gemstone department. _

_As an advocate of proper grammar and word usage, I dislike strongly your word-creating. Stop it._

_Actually will see you soon,_

_Bellatrix_

* * *

In heavy, dark-inked words: 

**June Seventeenth**

**Dear Cousin-of-mine,**

**Fine. I didn't really not want to go anyways. Maybe I'll tell mum that you're really just dragging me to Romania where you will feed me to a dragon. Which you would do. I know. And I don't want to be fed to a dragon if I can help it; I'm barely eleven years old. So then she'll let me stay home and not be forcibly taken to Diagon Alley. And mum apparently wants me to tell you that she plans on coming with us unless something comes up. I don't know what that means, but we should try to ditch her, she's so smothering. Ugh. **

**Kidnap me, Bella. I dare you. I double-dog dare you. Yep. You've been dared. Ha. Now you have to kidnap me. So do it. Because Regulus is being a ruddy git. All the time. Just suddenly. I have no idea why, but he does the git-thing a lot. Basically he runs around Grimmauld Place screaming at me telling me I'm going to be in Hufflepuff. And mum got really angry and flustered and told him to shut his bloody mouth. Hah. She can actually be okay randomly. **

**I hope Regulus gets bloody Hufflepuff. He's so daft. Hah. But thank you loads for reassuring me. With your word I can rest easy knowing I won't get Hufflepuff… **

**Also. Erm. I don't have billions of galleons as you apparently think, Bella. Mum does though. Badger her for presents. Hah. And the only thing you have to get me is a summer in Greece.**

**By the way, it will take me a bit to reply to your next letter, Bella. Why, you ask? Well. I am not telling. Hah.**

**But I'm telling you, I shall continue to make up words simply to annoy you, Bella. Bellagon. There. A dragon crossed with you. Now THAT is frightening.**

**Much love,**

**Sirius**

* * *

In beautiful, carefully written print: 

_June Twentieth_

_Siri,_

_I assure you I shall never feed you to a dragon, Sirius, unless it is a proper dragon such as the Ukrainian Ironbelly and not a tiny pseudo dragon like the Vipertooth. I suppose, however, I would be a proper dragon. I hope this 'Bellagon' is as exquisite and elegant as your cousin, yes Sirius? I am going to assume your response is a positive one. Also, I shall quite like to breathe fire in a way that awes all who look upon it, for your reference. _

_I only wish I could truly kidnap you, dearest Sirius, because I am mentally strained as I am at the moment stuck in this house with Narcissa and Andromeda. Andromeda's been shunned, of course, for apparently associating with mudbloods at school. I cannot confirm this but only know that she is indeed not seeing the light of day. Tragic, really, but she does get on my nerves with that. Father is quite drunken now so even if I could kidnap you, he would be unable to do so in his heavily inebriated state._

_I shall simply have to hope that you will indeed purchase said gift for me from Madame Malkins Shoppe, as she just recently made a spectacular set of blood-red and silver robes that would look spectacular for formal dress. Remember the ones I pointed out? Those were it. They were simply gorgeous, Sirius, I simply cannot see how you did not desire them as much as I. Nevertheless, your mother is a bit frightening on occasion, as she was in Flourish and Blotts, trying to charm quills that people were buying. That was amusing._

_Annoy me all you wish, Sirius, I shant pay any mind to your random word concoctions. Take as long as you wish to on writing me back, after all I'm only your cousin and I don't mean a thing, Sirius._

_Love,_

_Bellatrix_

* * *

In heavy, large lettering: 

**August First**

**Bella I am So Sorry I Didn't Write Sooner,**

**Did you just address me as Siri in your last letter? Y'know, I think you did. That amuses me a lot. D'you know why? Because you haven't called me Siri in ages, Miss I Care About Gramar More Than Fun. I am aware that I spelled Gramar wrong. I did it on purpose, just to annoy you. Hah. I win. And just so you know I would much rather be eaten by a Bellagon than any other dragon, mostly because you wouldn't torture me first. Or, maybe you would and in that case, feed me to the Vipertooth. Hah.**

**Kay, so, I didn't write for an entire ten days because dear old mum decided we should all go flying through France which was very, very odd Bella, and I never want to go again. I had to ride on a broom with Orion and Regulus got to be babied by mum. And the wizarding community was really weird there. They kept pinching my cheeks. Later, mum told me we were distantly related to a lot of them. How amusing. There was one very nice looking bird. She was pretty I suppose for a thirteen year old. And before you say anything, you vain girl, she was not nearly as pretty as you. She was blonde. Like Cissa, only more horsy looking. If that's possible. Hah.**

**Er, your mum and dad sent Andromeda into exile for talking to a muggle born? Isn't that just a bit harsh? Y'know, I think it is. I think to annoy them I'll talk to all of them. Then. I'll dare you to do it too. Hah.**

**I am not buying you expensive dress robes. Hah. Keep dreaming.**

**Sirius**

* * *

In washed out, curly script: 

_August Twelfth_

_I did not call you Siri,_

_I have decided quite frankly that this shall be my last letter to you this summer, regardless of how many you write back. This is because I'm attempting to read through my schoolbooks, as Mother has assigned, and therefore I do not wish to experience such a distraction as you, and you are a distraction, Sirius. _

_I do not like your spelling of grammar, Sirius, and must insist that you halt this irate annoyance at once. _

_France, Sirius? We have French relations? I never would have guessed, especially since the family motto is "Toujours Pur" which is quite certainly not French. And if you have not realized by now, that was blatant sarcasm and you should probably check into St. Mungo's for not being able to tell the difference. _

_Is it so hard to believe that Andromeda speaks to mudbloods? I shall never understand why she associates with such filth. It's unnatural and she deserves every bit of exile she receives, Sirius. And you shall not speak to them at school incessantly. I exclusively forbid it, and if you ever dare me to do such things I shall hex you._

_Deeply missing you,_

_Bellatrix_

* * *

Bellatrix Lestrange sat back in the silver-lined sofa in her little decrepit and dark haven, deep in thought. She rubbed her gaunt and exhausted silver eyes gently, and at once tossed the ancient letters into the still-burning fireplace of the abandoned house in Little Hangleton. 


End file.
